


Waiting For Tomorrow

by limechips



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Biker AU, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Gen, M/M, Marijuana, Partners to Lovers, Slow Burn, flirting?, mechanic AU, minor original characters for plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limechips/pseuds/limechips
Summary: Jamison, a self-employed auto mechanic, is barely making ends meet with his day job.  That is, until an intimidating biker named Roadhog pays him a visit and offers Jamie the business proposal of a lifetime.





	1. Quick Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Aaa my very first not-one-shot fic ever! I'm obsessed with Mechanic!Junkrat & Biker!Hog lately so... here we go!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments & crit, or let me know if I need to to tag anything that I missed.  
> Otherwise I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks!

“Jamison, dear?”

A soft rap against his front door startled Jamison awake, eyes squinting defensively against the bright midday sun that assaulted him through his living room window. 

A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was well into the afternoon. This was the fourth day in a row he had overslept. He couldn’t remember if he had snoozed through his alarm or if just hadn’t gone off at all. 

No use worrying too much either way, he decided. 

He didn’t have anything to do today, anyway. There wasn’t any work to do at the shop lately; a lack of customers meant a lack of responsibilities, though he found himself perfectly comfortable with that these days.

Another knock at the door pulled Jamison out of his thoughts and sent him scrambling to find his shorts which, as usual, were with the rest of his clothes in a heap on the floor. He quickly stood and pulled them up, deciding not to bother with his shirt. Too hot for that anyway. 

Summer was in full swing and Jamison spent his many days off in the small, air-conditioned living room of his rental. Even with the AC going full blast, it was always a little too hot and stuffy to be comfortable in anything more than underwear. 

Weeks ago he had determined the AC just needed a new filter, but hadn’t bothered to pick one up just yet. He’d get around to it one of these days for sure. On the other hand, he lived alone and didn’t mind being half-naked all the time, so there was really no rush.

“Jamie, are you awake or should I come back later?” The person at the door knocked again. Jamison recognized the cheerful voice of Beth, his landlady, and a familiar twinge of guilt stung him behind the eyes. 

Beth was a lively old woman who owned and operated the only nearby inn, as well as the property Jamison was currently renting. She was probably here to ask him how work was going which was her polite and subtle way of determining when she could expect a rent payment. 

Jamison had been living here for a couple years now, and the woman treated him like her own grandkid. Although the young man appreciated her kindness, he resented the guilt that ate him up when he fell behind on rent. He didn’t like having to admit to her that he hadn’t had a customer in weeks, or that he’d be a little short on funds this go around. Nothing felt worse than disappointing someone he respected. Oh well. Better to come clean sooner rather than later, he figured.

“Be there in just a sec!” Jamison called, patting his hair down in a futile attempt to look like he hadn’t just woken up. He quickly shuffled to the door and pulled it open wide, scrunching his face at the sudden flood of light.

“Well good morning, hon!” A bubbly voice greeted him. Beth laughed and smiled up at him, both hands on her hips. She was thin and petite, her gray hair done up in the same tight bun she wore every day. Jamie towered over her, but what she lacked in height she made up for in character.

“No work again today, huh?” She asked, her tone a little sympathetic.

He had expected this. He would apologize and she would give him more time, as always. She had always been kind about stuff like this.

“Ah… Yeah, shop’s been dead as, lately. Guess there aren’t a lot of folks needing work in the dead of summer.” Jamison shrugged and smiled at Beth, who nodded in understanding. 

“Sorry Beth. I’ll give ya what I can for now, and you know I’m happy to fix up stuff around your place as payment in the meantime if you’d like.”

Beth barked a hearty laugh and waved a hand in the air dismissively. “You’re a good kid, Jamie. I’ll see what I need and get back to you.” Her eyes lit up like she suddenly remembered something.

“Oh but you know, I actually came here with good news! I’ve got a customer staying at the inn who’s interested in having some work done. Said he heard Junkrat was a genius mechanic and wanted to see for himself,” she laughed again, “I told him not to get his hopes up, but he asked for an appointment right away anyway!”

Jamison ignored her joke and reached a hand up to rub nervously at his neck, “Right away, huh? So I take it he’s coming by today, then?” He asked, and Beth hummed a confirmation. 

“He wants to swing by in a couple hours. Sorry for the short notice, but he seems like the kind of man who’s got money burning a hole in his pocket, and you know how much I like those!” Beth winked and let out a cackle, clearly amused with herself.

Jamie giggled, but his mind was focused on what Beth had said before. His first job in weeks, and it was someone who knew about his garage already? Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes wasn’t famous by any stretch of the imagination, just a self-employed mechanic in a small rural town. He was good at his job, sure, but why would someone travel all the way here just to get some work done? It didn’t add up, but there was no reason to think too hard about it until he actually met the guy.

“What’s his name?” Jamie asked, but the woman just shrugged.

“Called himself Roadhog. Paid in cash, too, and I know better than to ask questions. But he seems nice enough. Surprisingly polite,” she glanced at her watch and winced at the time, “Alright, sorry hon, but I gotta get back to it. You ought to get down to the garage and wait for Mister Hog. Said he’d be around in an hour or two. He’s a big fella, you won’t miss him. Probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, though.” Beth gave Jamie’s arm a pat before she turned to descend the stairs of the porch. She was almost half-way across the yard when she grinned back at him, “And please put on a shirt for once in your life!” 

“Will do!” Jamison chuckled, unfazed, and waved as he watched the woman start the trek back to her inn down the street. When he was sure she was well on her way, he closed the door and set about his usual morning routine.

Worry suddenly nagged at the back of Jamie’s mind; he didn’t like the pressure of responsibility this carried with it. Working equaled money, Jamison knew, but life was more fun when he could sleep in and spend the day messing around at home. Dealing with customers who expected your best work was too stressful, sometimes even more stressful than being broke. More responsibilities meant more opportunities to disappoint.

Then again, it would be nice to have his bills taken care of; Beth was looking out for him and he owed her that much at least. Her more than anyone else, honestly.

Jamie grabbed half a muffin from the kitchen counter and shoved it in his mouth, gnawing at it as he walked to the bathroom. He slid out of his clothes and finished the pastry off with one final gulp as he turned the knob and waited for the shower to heat up. A timid toe tested the water and, when it was the perfect temperature, the rest of him followed.

He quickly set to shaving and washing himself. Jamison preferred long showers, usually--they were good for clearing the head--but he was skilled at making it quick when he had somewhere to be. At one point while lathering up Jamie palmed indulgently at his junk a bit, but decided there was no time for this particular morning routine. It would have to wait. Meeting a client was more important than cranking one out, loathe as he was to admit it. He sighed and let the water wash over him for a minute before hopping out of the shower to dry off and get dressed. 

The mysterious man would be showing up at Jamie’s garage soon and the young mechanic wanted to make a good first impression. A good relationship with the client usually meant a bigger tip when the work was done, a lesson Jamie had taken to heart early on. Going to work wasn’t as fun as getting stoned and tinkering with junk all day, but he nevertheless took pride in his job when he actually got to do it.

Jamie’s bedroom was cluttered with piles of clothes, but it didn’t take long for him to find and put on a freshly-washed pair of underwear and a white tank top. It did, however, take a fair bit of digging before he found a clean set of short-sleeved work coveralls. They were dark blue and had his name－Jamison－embroidered on the left breast; his garage’s trademark skull and dynamite logo was printed on the right sleeve. Beth had helped him customize a couple pairs awhile back and he liked how much more professional it made him look when he put it on. He felt cool. Professional.

Excitement tugged at him now. He wondered what kind of work the guy was gonna need done. Beth never mentioned what kind of car the guy drove, but it had to be something interesting since the man had asked after Jamie specifically. He paced back into the kitchen, deciding to kill a few extra minutes before heading over.

Jamie plopped down at his small kitchen table where he had left his small glass pipe. He packed the bowl modestly; no sense in getting totally zooted before a professional meeting. With the flick of a lighter he lit the herb and took a few small hits before leaning back to exhale a cloud of smoke. Relaxation instantly flooded through him from head to toe, and he fondly noticed the way the sun lit the room through the windows. He let himself bask in this feeling for a minute before mentally going over what Beth had told him about the man he’d be meeting soon.

Roadhog, huh? With a name like that, Jamie expected this guy to be cool. It was always hit or miss with customers; sometimes they were chill folks who were easy to talk to, and sometimes they were entitled and stingy. In his experience, people with nicknames tended to be fun and interesting, though. A lot of times they were performers passing through, or old folks in motorcycle clubs. 

It had been awhile since he had been able to talk shop with anyone; the last several customers had been tourist families that needed a quick oil change or new tires for their boring SUVs. That kind of work was easy, but boring. He hoped this Roadhog would be one of the fun ones. 

Jamie caught himself getting lost in thought and shook his head, reaching down to quickly pull on an old pair of red high top sneakers. Might as well head over now and work on something while he waited for the man to show up. He grabbed his keys and left out the kitchen door, making sure to lock up on the way out, just in case. 

 

The workshop was a stone’s throw away from the house. A small but spacious 3 car work garage just on the other side of the yard and surrounded by dry shrubs. It was an old building, but whoever designed it made sure it would withstand the test of time. 

There was a rustic charm to the whole place, the kind that brought tourists from miles away to wax poetic about rural life before heading back to whatever cities they came from. Those types were usually Jamison’s least favorite customers.

He punched in the 4-digit code to open one of the automatic garage doors and it obeyed, metal creaking against metal as it slowly lifted up. Jamie impatiently ducked under it as soon as he could and flicked on the lights, though they didn’t make much of a difference with the sun now beaming directly through the open door. He strode lazily over to his half-shaded desk in the corner and sat down, shoving some papers aside so he could kick his legs up and lean back. Time to wait.

The garage was mostly empty aside from the usual tools, spare parts, and an old fox body exterior he had salvaged awhile back just because it looked cool. Jamie didn’t usually hold onto car parts for personal reasons－they either got used or sold as scrap for money－but his last name was Fawkes, and the idea of building his own ‘fox-mobile’ was too good to pass up. Whenever he got around to fixing it up, anyway. It was a project. Someday! 

Jamie’s high enveloped him, and he started to doze off. He didn’t notice the guttural roar of an engine nor the heavy crunch of boots on dirt that followed. 

 

A loud cough from nearby startled him out of his sleepy haze, and Jamison’s head snapped to inspect the source. Just a few feet in front of him was a massive figure, shrouded in shadow and back lit by the bright afternoon sun. He squinted and immediately realized, based on size alone, that this was probably his client. Beth certainly wasn’t joking about him being a big fella. 

The man had to be at least 7 feet tall, and he was built like a truck. His hair was shaved on the sides and what remained on top was white, and long enough to be pulled back and tied up into a thick ponytail. Jamie took note of the old jeans and nice leather jacket the man wore, as well as the surgical mask that covered the bottom half of his face. Purple-tinted aviator sunglasses hid the man’s eyes, and Jamie caught the glint of a couple stud earrings. A thin, gold chain hung around his neck and disappeared under a plain white tee shirt. The man didn’t look particularly odd, aside from his size, but his style and the way he carried himself told Jamie this guy was not someone to be messed with.

“This place open?” The man’s deep, gravelly voice rumbled like thunder through the garage. The young mechanic shot to his feet and put on his best customer service voice despite the intimidating creature that had just snuck up on him dozing off.

“Ah, yep, sure am! How ya goin’, mate? Name’s Jamison,” He smiled big and held his hand out for a handshake, “and you?”

The larger man ignored the gesture and folded his arms with a grunt. Jamie pulled his hand back after a beat and sucked in a nervous breath. He felt the other’s sharp gaze travel up and down his entire body; even through the tinted glasses Jamie felt like he was being dissected, and a soft pink crept onto his cheeks at the sudden, intense attention. Jamison licked his lips, about to break the awkward silence, when the mountain in front of him finally spoke.

“Roadhog,” The man answered, still unmoving. Still staring.

What was with this guy? 

The breath Jamison held came out of him as a nervous laugh. This guy seemed like a tough customer, but he wasn’t the first. Beth had said he was nice after all, so Roadhog probably didn’t come all this way just to crush his bones into paste for fun. All he had to do was figure out what kind of work the man needed, and do a good job. Jamie could handle this, he just had to play it cool. 

He ran a hand through his blond hair to collect himself a bit before he spoke again, and forced himself to look up at the man’s face, though he wasn’t quite sure where to focus with all the stuff covering it. 

“Well it’s my pleasure, Mister Roadhog. Beth mentioned you came looking to have some work done and I’d say you came to the right place!” Jamie leaned back against the desk and folded his arms, “Now, what is it I can do for ya?” He smiled and noticed as Roadhog’s gaze traveled around the room, almost as if he were looking for something in particular. Another awkward minute of silence stretched between them, but Jamie was patient this time. Roadhog looked back at the blond and snickered.

“Not a very busy guy, are you?” Roadhog asked flatly, and Jamie couldn’t stop himself from looking offended. The big guy hummed, seemingly amused, and dropped a heavy, ring-adorned hand on the kid’s bony shoulder. Jamie flinched but didn’t stop glaring.

“Don’t get mad, kid. That’s just what I’m lookin’ for,” Jamie must have suddenly looked confused, because Roadhog continued, “Gonna have a bunch of broken shit that needs fixing soon, and I need someone I can trust to get it done when I need it. Someone with a lot of free time, preferably.”

Jamison furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his neck, contemplating the man’s words. Naturally he had assumed the guy was here for a tune-up or some custom body work or something, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He couldn’t be certain just yet, but it sounded like Roadhog was looking to hire him full-time for awhile. If so, this could mean a lot of money. Lotta work too, though. Jamison was interested, but needed to know what he was getting into first.

As if he had read Jamie’s mind, Roadhog spoke again, “I heard you’re the best around here. The work won’t be nothing too crazy, just a lot of quick repairs mostly. You’ll need to work with my schedule though, which means 24/7 availability.” 

Jamie nodded, following along. Roadhog was odd, but this arrangement didn’t seem too bad, actually. He didn’t want to appear too eager to accept the man’s offer without the full details, though. Jamie was only 25, but was a moderately savvy businessman when it came down to brass tacks. He knew better than to enter a contract without negotiating the fine points first. 

“I’m willing to do this for ya, but I gotta know it’ll be worth my while. I know it looks like I haven’t got much to do around here,”

He didn’t.

“but I still got a business to run. I don’t just spend my days off doin’ nothin’.”

He did.

Roadhog stuffed a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a modest wad of folded bills clipped together. He shoved it toward Jamie who quickly counted it with trembling hands. The thin stack of paper hadn’t seemed like much at first, but there were ten fresh, crisp hundreds. Interesting.

“A thousand bucks? I appreciate the offer Mister Hog, but my time’s worth a little more than－” A loud, irritated sigh bellowed from the other man before he could finish.

“Don’t be stupid.” Roadhog swung his hand up, causing Jamie to flinch. The man pulled his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head and stared directly at the mechanic; thick white eyebrows furrowed over intense, deep-set gray eyes. Jamison dared not look away. A finger nearly the size of his wrist, nail painted black, pointed at the cash Jamie held in his hand.

“That’s for meeting with me today. On the house.” 

Roadhog started to slowly pace around the place as he continued to talk, and Jamie was relieved to have a little breathing room again. 

“I’ve already spoken with the woman at the inn. Told her I’ll pay your rent in full for as long as we work together. That’s on top of your usual rates. Only offering once though, so you’ll have to make up your mind by tonight.” The man turned to shoot a glance back at Jamison who was watching him carefully, mouth open slightly in shock as he processed this information. 

Normally Jamie would have been suspicious of an offer like this, but he could tell Roadhog wasn’t messing around. At the moment he was holding almost an entire month’s rent in his hand, and there was supposedly much more where that came from. Maybe it was the allure of money, or maybe it was something else, but Jamie decided to accept.

“You know what I want, and now you know what I’m offering,” Hog prompted, and Jamie put the cash in his back pocket and grinned. 

“Alright mate, ya got me. Jamison Fawkes is at your service, starting today!”

The wrinkles in the corners of Roadhog’s eyes deepened slightly, indicating a smile, though the face mask prevented Jamie from actually seeing it. The man held his huge hand out to Jamie, who shook it enthusiastically. The deal was done.

“Excellent. I appreciate it,” Roadhog pulled his shades back down and started to walk out of the garage as he spoke, “Gotta take care of some stuff but I’ll be back in the morning to talk details. I’ll get your number from the old woman. Make sure you’re up by 10.”

Roadhog left the garage and Jamie followed after him, stopping at the door of the garage when his eyes spotted the custom chopper parked out front. It was gorgeous and immaculately maintained; every inch of chrome was well-polished, and the deep aqua color of the body shimmered as it caught the light. Even the leather seat was clean and well-stitched, the quality apparent even from a distance. Jamie had seen a lot of nice bikes in this line of work, but never one this gorgeous. He was awe-struck. 

Jamie put his hands in his pockets and crossed his feet, leaning his shoulder lazily against the door frame. Enthralled, he watched every little movement as Roadhog swung a leg over the bike and sat down, adjusting his weight on the seat as he gripped the handlebars. 

With the twist of a key, the chopper roared to life. It was deep and loud, and the rumble echoed heavily through the yard like an explosion. Jamie felt the sound in his bones; felt time stop completely around him as he admired the man and his bike. The two were made for each other, he thought.

“Hey,” Roadhog yelled back at Jamie as he revved the engine, “Seeya tomorrow kid.” 

Jamie smiled and nodded, and in an instant, Roadhog had sped off. The bike cut masterfully into the dirt and left a thick, pluming trail of dust in its wake.

Before he knew it, the roar of the engine had diminished into a purr as Roadhog and his bike disappeared down the long street. Jamison sighed out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and stared until the plumes of smoke finally disappeared into the deep blue atmosphere.

Maybe it was the weed talking, but Jamie couldn’t wait for tomorrow.


	2. Wispy Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamison finally starts work, but wonders if maybe he's bitten off more than he can chew with Roadhog as a business partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more world-building in this chapter but I couldn't help myself, I had to add a lil SPICE!!!
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Comments & crit are always welcome, I'm always tryin' to improve and y'all give me STRENGTH ;w;
> 
> \---------------

Jamison awoke with a start to the sound of his phone ringing. He fumbled around frantically trying to locate the source of the sound, his brain foggy with sleep and adrenaline, and nearly tumbled off the couch. A few tossed-off blankets later the phone was in his hand, but whoever was calling had already hung up. Jamie sighed a yawn and checked the clock.

Nine-thirty.

He was supposed to meet Roadhog around ten. There wasn’t much time to get ready, but he was thankful that he had been able to wake up in time at all. It wasn’t a good look to be late to your first day day on the job, after all. 

Jamison rushed through his morning routine as he had the day before, though he decided to skip the shower to save time. The way he saw it, his clothes were clean and he hadn’t done any real work since yesterday, so deodorant would suffice for now. 

As he ate breakfast, Jamie wondered what the day would hold for him. He still wasn’t sure what to expect from the agreement between him and Roadhog. He had accepted the man’s terms yesterday purely based on how much the job paid, but hadn’t really asked for specifics. He’d kicked himself all night for letting his guard down, but the decision was already made, and it was final. 

“No use worrying about it now,” the blond groaned. He’d have the details pretty soon anyhow, and this job promised to more than cover his bills for months to come. That alone was worth any killer work the old biker could throw at him, Jamison reassured himself. This deal was clearly in his favor, and the idea of being paid squashed any suspicions he might have had as to why Hog offered so much so quickly.

 

A routine smoke in the kitchen soothed the anxiety that rippled in his mind about today. Jamison had never had a job this big before, but he was confident in his own engineering skills if nothing else. He was ready to give his all since it meant doing what he loved and being paid for it.

Jamie tapped the spent bowl out onto the porch and quickly pulled on his shoes, a sudden giddiness guiding his actions. Things were going to be very good for awhile. A smile spread across his lips and, with a deep breath, he locked up and headed for the garage. 

 

It was another gorgeous day outside, the deep blue expanse of the sky was smeared with wispy clouds that floated lazily in the heat. Jamie felt like one of those clouds: small, quiet, aimlessly drifting, waiting for a strong southern wind to blow him in the right direction. The idea was silly, but a little freeing, when he thought about it. Clouds had many forms, and he dreamily wondered if maybe he did, too. 

That wandering train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he heard the telltale roar of an engine followed by a faint cloud of dust growing rapidly closer. He squinted against the sun, barely able to make out the large, dark silhouette of the man from yesterday. Jamison leaned back against the side of the garage, hands deep in his pockets, and waited.

In no time at all, Roadhog was on the property and had slowed the bike to a stop just in front of where the young mechanic stood. The ignition clicked off and Roadhog set the brake. Boots crunched heavily into the dirt as a thick, sturdy leg swung over the bike, and Roadhog stood to greet Jamison with a nod.

 

“Morning.” Roadhog’s voice was deep, but sounded almost jovial, which put Jamison’s nerves at ease a bit.

He noticed the biker was dressed the same as yesterday, though the surgical mask had been replaced by a black and white bandanna. It was tied over Roadhog’s nose and mouth and along with the man’s purple aviators, still completely obscured his face. 

It was a weird way to accessorize, but Jamison found himself more impressed with how well-dressed the biker was in general. Nerves hadn’t afforded him the luxury of thinking about it yesterday, but Roadhog appeared to be the wealthy, stylish type. He was in perfect contrast to Jamison, the grimy out of work mechanic who spent most of his days half-naked on the couch, stoned. 

“You’re on time. Good.”

“Aw, don’t act so surprised!” Jamison feigned offense and punched in the code to the garage, “Wouldn’t do to make my new partner angry on the first day, would it? Besides,” he turned back to Roadhog and screwed his face into a weird, toothy smile, “It’s in my best interest to stay on your good side, mate.” Roadhog only grunted, then ducked under the half-open garage door, and Jamison followed close behind. 

The lights flicked on and the lanky mechanic strode to his desk and sat immediately. He motioned for Hog to occupy chair across from him, but it was much too small to accommodate the larger man comfortably. Fortunately, Roadhog didn’t seem to notice the invitation and had already opted to lean a heavy shoulder against the wall.

“Alright kid let’s get down to business,” Roadhog cleared his throat and pulled a thin, white envelope from one of his pockets. He pulled a few folded papers from inside and straightened them out before placing them on the desk In front of Jamison.

There were two pages, with a couple places for signatures on the second. A contract. The space for Roadhog’s signature was still blank, and Jamison assumed it was due to the man’s apparent obsession with privacy. No normal guy used a nickname and covered his face wherever he went, but he supposed there was a good reason. Maybe Roadhog was secretly a celebrity? He certainly had the fashion sense and money to spare, so it was possible. The blond smiled at the idea and began to read over the terms of the agreement. 

It would be a pretty easy job, just as expected. He was to be Roadhog’s private mechanic, available all hours of the day, pay was outlined as agreed. Nothing in the terms looked suspicious at all. Both parties were free to back out of the contract at any time with no repercussions, just a simple termination of the partnership. It almost felt too good to be true, but a second and third read-through convinced Jamison it was legit.

“Everything checks out, far as I can tell,” Jamison said, thin hand running through blond hair several times as he spoke. He clicked a pen and scrawled a signature, then handed the pages over for Roadhog to sign. The larger man hummed and, in a show of good faith, added his name to the contract. Jamison stole a glance at the man’s signature: MR - ROADHOG.

Of course. He hadn’t really expected to learn the man’s real name like this, but he was still a little disappointed. What did “MR” mean, anyway? Mister? That was an unconventional way to sign something, but Jamison reminded himself that Roadhog was already anything but conventional.

“Well now! It’ll be a pleasure workin’ with ya, Mister Roadhog,” Jamison said cheerfully, grip now firm in a handshake. Roadhog nodded and Jamison watched him fold the papers back into the envelope and tuck the contract away in his fancy leather jacket. 

The scraggly young mechanic grinned ear to ear. If this deal wasn’t official before, it was now, and a wave of excitement and relief washed over him. As long as this partnership lasted, his rent was paid in full, and any commission he made on top of that was just extra. Jamison had struggled to make ends meet for so long, he had no idea how to handle this kind of income, and his mind buzzed with plans for how to use it.

“I’m counting on you,” Roadhog spoke, snapping Jamison out of his own thoughts, “Oh yeah. Got ya somethin’.” He pulled a rectangular object from one pocket and placed it on the desk in front of Jamie, then continued, “Your new phone. You’ll send and receive all your calls on it from now on, understand? Even personal ones. Texts, everything.”

Jamison grabbed the phone and turned it around in his hands. The device itself was thin and sleek, and a heavy-duty protective case had already been put on it; everything was brand new. Looked expensive, too. It seemed really nice, but he felt a little guilty holding it for some reason. He already had a cell phone, though admittedly it was on its last legs these days. Did Roadhog know that somehow, or was this just part of the deal?

“I can’t accept such a nice gift,” He looked up at Roadhog, “I mean, thanks for this, but is it really necessary? It’s just, the shop’s already got a phone number I use for business calls and…” Jamison trailed off when Hog pushed those purple aviators up and raised an eyebrow at him. He had previously assumed that seeing the other man’s eyes would make him easier to read, but that intense gaze made him more nervous than anything.

“It ain’t a gift, it’s a perk. And it’s paid for, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Roadhog spoke slowly, “This is how I contact you with jobs as they come in. Long as you work for me, you need to keep it with you at all times.” Hog bent down to place both palms on the desk and leaned forward, locking his gaze on the younger man. The biker towered over Jamison like this, and the proximity was suffocating. 

“I need you to be available all day, wherever you are, no matter what you’re doing,” the man’s tone hadn’t changed at all, but Jamie could tell the last few words carried the air of a threat. Like there was an unspoken “or else” tacked on at the end.

Jamison accepted the need for the new phone and was more than happy to make himself available. That had been part of the agreement after all, but something about Roadhog’s words rubbed him the wrong way. Did he just say Jamison worked FOR him?

Whatever. The contract was still written in Jamison’s favor, and he hadn’t forgotten about the thousand dollars from yesterday, and now the free new phone. The pot was still sweet. It was always possible to back out of the contract if things got too weird, he assured himself. Things would work out.

“Alright, alright, I’m convinced” Jamison tucked the device into the breast pocket of his coveralls and leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “Don’t worry about a thing, mate. I’m at your beck and call, whatever ya need. That’s the agreement, after all!” He smiled cheerfully and winked, confident that he had made the right decision with all this.

“Whatever I need, huh?” Roadhog’s voice had lowered to a whisper and he sounded almost amused.

A deep, satisfied hum rumbled out of the larger man who, to Jamie’s complete surprise, leaned his body over the desk until their faces were only a few inches apart. Gray eyes drilled into him behind hooded lids, and Jamison could hear soft, ragged breaths creep from under the bandanna. Jamie’s own breath caught in his throat as he sunk down into his chair, hands falling to his sides and fingers gripping at the arm rests. The biker’s intimidating aura permeated the whole room. Everything about him suddenly felt too big, too powerful, too close, too…

The scrawny mechanic felt his muscles tense and a sudden wash of nervousness manifested through fidgety hands and bouncing knees. Amber eyes flicked across the visible features of the other man’s face, then to the floor, then the ceiling, and back again; looking for any expression that might clue him into Roadhog’s next move. Jamison laughed uncomfortably, he didn’t know how else to react to something like this. 

The atmosphere in the room was stifling, and he tried hard not to think about why. Another low, amused hum rumbled out of Roadhog and traveled like lightning through Jamison’s spine. He imagined this was how a rabbit being pinned down by a lion might feel: panicked and unsure of what to expect next.

“Music to my ears.” Roadhog’s words hung in the air, buoyant in the silence that followed. Jamison’s stomach twisted into a knot and his mind began to wander somewhere he didn’t want it to. He felt his breaths grow quick and shallow, felt the sweat bead up on his forehead. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and an unwelcome blush crept slow and hot into his cheeks. Jamison wished he could disappear into the floor.

In one startlingly swift movement Roadhog stood as a hearty roar of laughter burst out of him, strong enough to make his shoulders move. Jamison just stared at him in stunned silence, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as if he wanted to ask a question but the words wouldn’t come out. Roadhog’s laughter diminished into a cough when his lungs wheezed in protest, but Jamie could still hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. 

“We’re gonna make a great team, kid. Can’t wait to see those skills of yours.” The man reached up to tighten his ponytail and winked before tapping the shades back down over his eyes.

“I’ll be back tonight,” Roadhog turned to walk out, “Keep the phone close, your first job will be coming in soon.” He gave a parting wave and sauntered outside, silhouetted by the bright sun. Jamison watched in silence from inside the garage as Roadhog mounted his bike and zoomed off, trail of dust in his wake. Just like that, he was gone.

It wasn’t until the sound of the motorcycle disappeared down the street a few minutes later that Jamison let himself finally relax. He sat up and leaned on the desk, dropping his forehead to rest in sweaty palms.

What the hell just happened? Jamison couldn’t wrap his mind around it; one minute he was signing a big professional contract and the next… It all felt like a blur, but the lingering warmth on his face was proof enough that it had happened. 

Some jumbled up thoughts and feelings tried to bubble up to the surface of his mind, but Jamison pushed them away for now. God. Embarrassing. He could only hope Roadhog hadn’t read into his reactions too much. The only people he usually dealt with were customers and his landlord; the young mechanic just wasn’t used to anyone getting so… close. That’s all.

Jamison folded his arms on the desk and laid his head down. The best way to get over something was to have a little nap, he figured. Sleep it off. With any luck he’d only remember that exchange as a dreamy haze when he woke up.

He closed his eyes just in time to feel something vibrate against his chest. The phone. He sighed and sat up, answering as cheerfully as he could muster.

The familiar voice of Beth greeted him from the other end, and she sounded thrilled.

“Hey hon, Mister Hog gave me your new phone number so I called right away! He said you two signed the deal and made it official,” she laughed, “I’m so happy for you kiddo!”

Jamison mumbled a thanks but she talked over him, clearly too excited to have anything but a one-sided conversation at the moment. It occurred to him that his rent being covered actually meant that Beth was getting paid, and she must be feeling ecstatic right now. He felt good about that, at least.

“He told me to remind you that someone’s coming by with a car that needs work in about half an hour. And I’m reminding you to eat lunch! Looks like you got a busy day ahead so I’ll let you go, bye-bye!” She hung up before Jamison could even respond. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and stared outside.

The sun had already climbed higher in the sky and the wispy morning clouds had dissipated almost completely. A gentle breeze rustled through the plants outside, and he felt it circulate through the warm garage, rejuvenating him a little. Jamison sat quietly, his mind blank for a peaceful moment.

There wouldn’t be time for a nap, but Beth’s phone call had been a welcome distraction. Jamison decided to take her advice and have a quick snack while he waited for the car to be brought in. He perused the contents of the mini fridge behind his desk, which he kept stocked with drinks and things for when he was too busy to head home for meals.

He opted for a can of sparkling water and a couple hard boiled eggs. The drink opened with a hiss and Jamison gulped most of it down in one breath, surprised at how thirsty he was. He took his time with the eggs, sprinkling salt and pepper before each little bite. Eating was a good way to kill time, anyway.

Just as he finished, a lightly banged-up red pickup truck pulled up to park in the driveway, followed by an average-looking white car with unusually dark tinted windows. Jamison wiped his hands on the front of his coveralls and walked outside to greet the newcomers.

The windows on the red truck were already rolled down and a young woman hung her head out and waved to the mechanic. She had short, dark brown hair that had been messed up from driving with the window down, and wore big sunglasses. The woman smiled big as Jamison approached, and he caught the glint of two dimple piercings on her cheeks. 

“Fawkes, right? I’m here to drop this baby off for ya,” the young woman hopped down out of the truck and wiped her brow with her forearm, “Whew, ‘s a fuckin scorcher today, ain’t it?” She threw her arm out cheerfully for a handshake, “Name’s Cap. Nice to meetcha!”

“Pleasure,” Jamison greeted, surprised at the woman’s solid grip. Cap was tall and muscular, and although she was shorter than Jamison (at 6’6” most people were) she was in much better shape, physically. She wore a black tanktop and olive-colored shorts, with plain brown work boots. A white bandanna tied around her right arm contrasted against tan, freckled skin. The woman patted the hood of the truck a few times with a gloved hand.

“Hopin’ to have this guy done by tonight,” Cap wiped her brow again, “Shouldn’t be too much trouble, just the basic service to make sure he’s runnin’ good. Maybe knock out a few dings if ya got time?”

Jamison laughed and ran a hand through his hair to keep it out of his face, “Oh sure, no sweat! I’ll have everything all fixed up by this evening easy, long as there’s no complications.” 

“Okay, great! Thank you!” Cap smiled and gave two thumbs up, “The keys are in the ignition, so he’s all yours. Take care of him for me!” She turned and jogged to the passenger side of the white car and gave a quick wave before opening the door to hop in. Jamison waved back and watched as the car peeled out and sped away, then turned his attention to the truck.

So, the first job really was going to be easy. Part of him was disappointed; he had wanted to work on glamorous cars after seeing Roadhog’s gorgeous chopper, but he supposed this might be some kind of skill test or something. It made sense that he’d have to prove himself before doing the bigger jobs, and Jamison decided to give this red truck his full attention, even if basic tune-ups were the most boring thing imaginable.

He hopped up into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, the engine sputtering to life almost pathetically. Jamison pulled the truck into the garage and parked, then popped the bonnet to have a look at the engine. He grabbed a clipboard from his desk and began to walk around the truck, scrawling notes about everything he saw, and what definitely needed fixing just at a glance.

The blond tapped a pen against his chin thoughtfully for a few moments before he grabbed some tools and got straight to work. He remembered that Roadhog would be back later this evening, and an almost rebellious determination sparked inside him. 

It had been so long since he’d even done simple routine maintenance that just going through the motions was motivating him to do a good job. It would be easy to get the basics out of the way: an oil change, tire pressure check, fluids, all that. Still, he looked forward to it.

After what happened earlier, he was dead-set on ensuring that Roadhog didn’t get the best of him again. They were partners, and Jamison was going to do what it took to make sure he earned the respect he deserved. Jamison Fawkes wasn’t some pushover who could be bossed around so easily, and he was going to prove it.

“I’ll show him,” he chuckled to himself, “I got tricks up my sleeve, too, ya know.”


End file.
